Stains on our Hearts
by Merc-for-Hire
Summary: Various short stories made as submissions to the many Bleach Omake Competitions over in Hawk's The Fanfiction Forum.
1. Honor and Pride

**Title:** Honor & Pride - Byakuya's Heart  
**Characters: **Kuchiki Byakuya, Shihouin Yoruichi, Kuchuki Hisana  
**Entry Line: "**It was a tragedy that no one had a camera to capture Byakuya's expression. They'd probably never see that again."  
**Contest:** The original Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** A little peek into the mind and life of Kuchiki Byakuya, and what kind of man he grows to be.

* * *

It was a tragedy that no one had a camera to capture Byakuya's expression. They'd probably never see that again.

Byakuya is a cold reserved man, and few have seen the full range emotions he can truly express. To everyone, he is a prince and yet a snob. Few have ever wished to truly consider what it'd be like to be close to this noble man.

He has been looked upon with admiration and disdain alike more than any other way, and he accepts this without care. After all, who are they to judge him?

He is not an expressive person, he knows this. Sometimes, he wishes he were so. But it does nothing to wish what cannot be changed, and this is something that has been deeply ingrained in his core. Even with those close to him, few that they be, he finds it difficult to do so.

When he was a child, he did not understand the concept of 'play'. He knew rules, obligations, honor. There were no others near his age, except perhaps the child of the Shihouin family, but she was rarely allowed outside of the Shihouin compound, and they met even more rarely. Their two families were allies, but not 'friends'.

Humor and play were two things he learned from that girl though, he admits. He never quite did more than give a small smile at a few of the antics of the hyperactive Yoruichi, and he rarely gave jokes from his own part. The older girl would give a wide smile and smack him on his back whenever he did, and release a boisterous laugh, no matter how unfunny his joke was. She at least recognized the attempt.

He would tell no one, but he's always felt a bit awkward around her, and he hid it so very well. Even as they aged, their bodies growing, maturing, he hid it even as they danced another dance of the game named 'Tag', and he restrained himself from touching the body of the beautiful carefree young goddess with more than a lingering caress.

He'd had a crush on Shihouin Yoruichi.

In hindsight, he believes that she probably knew, sensed that barrier between them, and simply didn't comment on it. It was a self-imposed barrier that he himself had placed on himself, so he would be the one to break it if he wanted something more. It sounds, in his head, much the sort of thing she would do.

He never asked, and never really cared to. If she was his first and last crush, Hisana was his first and last love.

Their love, it was something that simply wasn't meant to be, to exist. He was the noble scion of the house of Kuchiki, she a mere commoner.

And yet it did. She was like a flame, wild and free, and yet contained, as if within a glass lamp, so as to not burn those whose lives she'd shed light on.

And he broke that glass lamp. The flame, eventually went out.

Their meeting began simply enough. It was the beginning of something new that followed the ending of something else.

Three shinigami captains. Rogue. It was unthinkable. Unprecedented. Frightening.

To all others, he seemed to take the news as if any other. Despite his acquaintance of one of the traitors, he did not break down like her subordinate, he merely nodded, and moved on his way.

Inside, he had been a mess.

He'd left that evening to take a walk through the dead of night, a random path that led him to where the Shihouin household gates were tightly shut. He stared up at the gigantic gates, and stood there for what seemed hours, closing his eyes and remembering.

"Emotions are a weakness, boy," his grandfather's raspy voice had once told him as a youth. "They can be used against you, and break you when you least expect it."

He had thought he lived by those words before, but...his heart was so heavy.

He knew he wasn't truly a close friend or confidant of the former head of the 2nd division. He understood that position definitely belonged to the man she aided in escaping, the fugitive genius, Urahara Kisuke.

And still he felt betrayed.

So he stood, senseless to the world. Until another came.

Something heavy began to wrap around his back, and in a flash, he was facing about, sword drawn, his face firm, thoughts of Yoruichi thrown to the back, for the moment at least.

"Eek!" his attacker exclaimed, with a jump before tripping or landing badly, simply falling onto their back, a heavy coat covering their body.

His eyebrow raised, and the tip of his sword dug into an edge of the coat, and raised upwards, pulling the coat off, revealing a girl in dirtied white rags (to his appraising eyes, at least) shivering, her hands crossed over her chest and face in a warding gesture, her eyes scrunched tightly and her lips clenched.

"...you are?"

He waited paitiently for the girl to open one of her eyes and stare at him. Her eye dashed towards his sword, and the shaking seemed to intensify.

He put away his sword. He could quickly draw it again if need be, although he doubted it. "You will not be hurt."

She still seemed so hesitant, but he did not offer much in the way of comfort. It's not his way. He simply stood there, towering over her.

Still, his lack of reaction, simply waiting patiently had the desired effect, somehow. She slowly rose, standing just a half-head shorter than he. Her fingers played nervously around that thick coat, twisting and turning it between her fingers.

"Uhm, I apologize for the intrusion, my lord." She bowed deeply and sharply, uncertainty and a healthy amount of fear present.

"Noted." It was all he had answered with, well that and a small nod of his head was given, but he continued to stand there, as if waiting for more.

Remembering his earlier question, she eventually bowed again. "I...my name is Hisana, Kuchiki-sama."

"Ah."

He paused, and then gave his own bow to the surprised girl, though his bow was smooth and confident. "My own apologies for startling you, Hisana-san," he offered, remembering his manners.

"Oh...oh no, it was my fault. I...I was the one who surprised you with my coat."

"I am a seated officer and heir to the Kuchiki house. I am not one who should have been surprised."

"But you were?"

He gave her a penetrating look, and whatever confidence and comfort she might have gained through their conversation seemed to vanish. He gave a brisk nod. "I was...immersed in my thoughts."

It looked like she understood that he did not wish to speak of his error, and gave another bow. Nothing else was said, on either part, and she turned to leave, slowly walking away.

Whim or fate, he called out to her when she was but ten steps away. "Why did you approach me?"

Her cheeks flushed red. "You looked cold. I...I thought you needed it more than me."

He nodded, in that cold manner of his, and turned away. The girl left soon after, when he did not say anything else. She did not hear his whispered "Thank you, Hisana-san."

They'd had other encounters after. Many thought they were staged by the girl, regardless of how flustered she appeared whenever he spoke to her. It did not seem to occur to anyone that the cold young noble was the one that saw something interesting in the girl.

At some point, that something became love, even if it wasn't easy to tell on his part. Hisana once told him before she died, that she fell in love with him the moment she saw him melancholy looking up those gates. He never once said why he'd been looking up at them. She never asked. However weak her body might have been, he would always envy the strength of her spirit, even after hearing her secret shame.

Many things happened since then, and almost ended quite badly.

His conscience was at war within him at that time. He had set himself up in an impossible place, obligation at odds with duty, and his sorrow and trust tainting his perceptions of how to act.

The girl he promised to protect with his life he was bound to execute. The girl he had begun to love like a sister, that child whom his wife had entrusted the life of to him...would die because of him. Why did he find her and that boy? He almost wished he'd failed.

He felt such relief when that boy appeared, and weak that he was, found triumph after triumph over their forces, until he became his near equal, in combat if not in station. Still, his pride warred within him, his cold face betraying nothing, as he fought with his utmost and almost set himself back in the position of executioner when the boy seemed to falter.

How happy he was when his body fell to the ground, broken, and he knew he was defeated. 'He'll protect her. This boy...he'll protect her.'

An undisguised smile decorates the face of an old man as he participates in a tradition from the human world, starting a murmur of chatter amongst guests.

"Did you see it? The commander-general smiled!" was what most statements revolved around.

He took a deep breath, and blew out the candles on his cake, his family laughing and patting him on the back. Rukia's granddaughter, his relative in name and spirit, moved closer to him looking rather nervous. Her husband held her hand tightly, and motioned her closer to him. "Tell him the news, Masaki-chan..."

"News?"

The girl smiled and grasped the general's hand, placing it on her stomach, surprising him. There was a vibrant feeling of life coming from there.

"...twins," the old man murmured.

She nodded brightly, a dazzling smile that reminded him so much of Hisana that he almost broke in tears.

"Yes, two girls. Yoruichi and Hisana, we were thinking of calling them, grandfather," the girl said with a small proud, hopeful smile, wanting the approval of their house of head.

The commander-general rubbed his granddaughter's stomach gently, feeling the pulse of strong energy coming from the still unborn children within, and then pulled back his hand, stared at it, and slapped it to his forehead, throwing his head back and giving a deep, strong, loud laugh. The 28th head of the noble Kuchiki clan said with a wide smile that surprised many from the normally cold general, especially given the tears that they could see streaming down those wrinkled cheeks. "Those are good names! We can expect much from them!"

When two girls enter the shinigami academy, some many years after, they do so with determined looks, to do the Kuchiki name proud.


	2. And that's the rub of it

**Title:** And That's the Rub of It  
**Characters: **Yamada Hanatarou, Kotetsu Isane, Abarai Renji, and various members of the 11th Division  
**Entry Line: "**Hanatarou can't deny he's Soul Society's bitch, but there were days like this that made it all worth it."  
**Contest:** The "first" Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** Even Hanatarou has limits before he blows up...

* * *

Hanatarou can't deny he's Soul Society's bitch, but there were days like this that made it all worth it. 

Things, you see, did not get easier for him once the drifters, Ichigo and the rest of his friends, took off back to the real world.

To be fair, it was mostly due to Rikichi's good intentions. And Renji's too. And, he supposed, he could also blame himself for not getting the hell away while Renji was trying to help, before his help turned into a vicious declaration of doom. His body's instincts betraying him didn't help -one- bit. Nor did Ikakku or Yumichika.

This happened just a very short time after the drifters took off. Things weren't quite back to normal yet in Soul Society, but they were close enough that the members of the 11th were back to picking on the members of the 4th. It hadn't taken them long to take up that 'hobby' again once there was no one left to fight, really.

That particular day, he'd been the lucky guy to be meet someone from the 11th. He'd have said he was lucky it was only one, but then another showed up. And another. And another

Soon, he was surrounded by a small mob of Zaraki's men. To be more specific, the ones that had first surrounded Ichigo and that friend of his, Gangyu. And that had already made clear their opinion of him when he'd stumbled onto that scene back then.

He had thought that it was going to hurt. He'd -resigned- himself to the fact that it was going to hurt.

Except his friend Rikichi had seen what was going to happen and had rushed to his idol, the vice-captain of the 6th division, Renji Abarai. And once the situation was explained, Renji rushed towards the poor hapless Hanataro to help, likely feeling a debt was due for having saved his life such a short time ago.

So there was Renji, standing behind him, his sword released, and his aura blasting out from him as he stared down his former comrades, the segments of his blade surrounding the pair leaving gouging holes on the ground between them and the mob.

"Just -what- do you people think you're doing?"

The aura of the red-headed shinigami must have been asphyxiating to them, because while it didn't quite match the intensity that their own captain could put out, none of those guys were particularly high up in the hiearchy of the 11th division. And Renji had gotten really really strong in the past few days as a result of his fights with Ichigo and his own training to defeat his captain.

"W-w-why do care?" one of the braver shinigami asked, although even he was cowering, and stepping back.

"If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead," Renji answered with cold precise steel. "So you will -show- some damn respect to him."

Hanatarou almost felt like this could have ended well, even hoped and dreamed that he'd be left alone. He really should have known better.

As the mob began to mutter amongst themselves, and slowly edge away, Renji put away his blade, and clapped Hanatarou in the shoulder. "There, those pussies shouldn't bother ya anymore!"

Everyone outside of the man that just spoke froze then, including Hanatarou. He just -knew- that insult of Renji's was going to cost him.

"PUSSIES?!?"

"Yeah. Pussies."

Renji was grinning at them, taunting them. Hanatarou's pleading expression was ignored by all. All those from the 11th started to move closer again, but Renji forced his aura out again to envelop everyone, causing them to flinch under the pressure of his spirit.

Renji's grin went wider, and he uttered a phrase that has made Hanatarou's life -hell- since then, sincerely cementing his position as Soul Society's bitch.

"C'mon, you guys are so afraid of me, and look here, Hanatarou is much closer to me and he's not a quivering mass of chicken."

"Yo-You're on his side! O-Of course he won't be!"

"...ooooh?"

Renji's eyes settled on Hanatarou, whose eyes went wide as suddenly all the pressure was on him, not just Renji's, but that of all the angered mob's.

Hanatarou, however, had the unfortunate luck of having been in the presence of many strong people recently. This wasn't near as terrifying or sufficating as being within Kenpachi Zaraki's space. And he wasn't tired or drained this time, nor did he have no place to run. And he'd been wanting to be brave like Ichigo ever since meeting the boy. This screwed his instincts entirely for the worst.

His instincts of fleeing were instead replaced by instincts to fight, and as he pulled back away from Renji, his sword arm went towards where his scabbard was supposed to be, before realizing he'd left his sword at home again.

Panic was just about to settle in when Renji's aura blinked out and he smiled at the medic shinigami. "I knew you weren't like these pathetic idiots."

"WHAT?!?" All those from the 11th in there were -furious-, and Hanatarou wanted so badly to shrink into a little ball and die. "THE COWARD TOOK A STEP BACK, SAME AS US!!!"

"Ah, but it seems he went for his sword, even if he doesn't appear to have it. You guys? You guys only thought of fleeing, didn't you? How ugly..."

"Very unbefitting, yes."

A pair of new voices.

Everyone looked up, and all those from the 11th that were still there turned pasty white.

"Yo!" Renji greeted Yumichika and Ikkaku, who were sitting atop the roof of one of the buildings at the side of the little gathering. "Came to join in, you two?"

"Well, Ikakku wanted to fight when we sensed your aura," Yumichika explained.

Ikakku hopped down, calling out his release phrase as he pulled his sword. When he landed, the sword was now a staff resting on his shoulder. "...Yeah. But right now I think I want to clean up some trash and explain what it means to be in the 11th."

His eyes seemed focused on a select few, probably those from his particular squad. The mob just looked as resigned as Hanatarou had back when he was surrounded.

Except as Ikakku went through them, their eyes often settled on Hanatarou before going unconscious from the beating, glaring with rage, blaming him for everything.

Hanatarou gulped as he received glare after glare until Ikakku finished up and his friend clapped for him.

"Well, looks like our work here is done!" Renji commented cheerfully. "Want to go get some beer, guys?"

The 3rd and 5th seat had looked over at the groaning mob and then at Renji and shrugged, before agreeing. As the trio left laughing it up, Hanatarou's knees buckled and he fell to the ground, horrified beyond belief.

"I...am...going...t-t-to...d-d-d-d-diiiiiiieeeeeee!!!! IIIEEEEEEEGGGGHHHHHH!!!!"

He didn't die, of course. He wouldn't be here, in his bed today, if he -were- dead of course. Well, dead-dead, not shinigami-dead, mind you.

But the past few days leading up to today weren't pretty.

First, and worst of all, he'd officially become -the- guy from the 4th to attack. None ofthe other members were getting attacked almost at all, as everyone was hunting for him. All his companions were treating him nicely, but kept giving him pitying looks accompanied with the easily recognizable feeling of 'Better him than me...'

Second, he'd been forced to start bringing his zanpakuto with him, the sword's healing properties essential to his continued well-being, having to dodge around the members of the 11th, ducking into alleyways with exits into the sewer even when he wasn't scheduled to do cleaning there, and his home was often vandalized.

Third, he made the mistake of fighting back. Against the wrong guy. He still wasn't sure why Zaraki came up behind him, but the dulled killing intent from -that- man, felt like the normal killing intent from his division members trying to hunt him down. And Hisagomaru's gauge was full. Frustrated, as he turned, he'd released his blade, and stabbed with it, not thinking of the consequences or that he was about to kill someone. Unfortunately, it had been Zaraki. On the one hand, he hadn't committed any murders that day.

On the other, Zaraki was now interested in the little medic that was making fools of his division what with his right arm having been rendered nigh but useless lump of flesh when he dodged what would surely have been a fatal blow on anyone else.

That lunatic had considered it yet another handicap to fight with as he switch to his left hand and began to attempt to skewer Hanatarou, often coming -very- close to doing so. The only saving grace was how much faster he'd become from dodging others, and his improvement in hiding and moving silently was unbelievable. Well, that and Hisagomaru allowing him to heal himself whenever he had the chance to do so.

He'd still ended up in the hospital, but it took Zaraki a good ten minutes to truly take him down. And that was mostly because his gauge had filled up again, and he figured if he made a good hit to a nerve clump to knock that lunatic unconscious or something, he could go get some rest. He was sure he hit, but he felt something hit him harder before everything went black.

When he'd woken up wrapped up like a mummy, Zaraki was sitting in the same room, and said, "Oh, you're awake? Good to see ya aren't dead, you persistant little cockroach. We can definitely finish business now." He made a face, as if remembering something, and was rubbing his ear, then muttered. "Or when you're healed up. That'll work fine too."

Hanatarou wasn't sure if that cockroach comment was a compliment or what, the 11th division's captain shambled out after that, muttering about devil women, though his vice-captain stayed for a second,and patted him on his bandaged forehead. "Thanks for playing with Ken-chan! He seems to like you now!"

As anyone with half a brain could tell, being liked by 'Ken-chan' when it involved 'unfinished business'? Not a good thing. Okay, sure, no one else actually messed with him now, not with Kenpachi essentially staking a claim on his ass, but really, he'd rather be running for his life from the rest of Kenpachi's men than from Kenpachi himself. About the only good thing to come out of all this was how Isane seemed to take pity on him and was trying to make his last moments on earth pleasant.

When three days later he was healed enough to go back home, Isane helping him there, he was resting in bed, when an...epiphany came to him. He was going to die. He was going to take them down with him then.

He'd grabbed his sword, and begun to heal his wounds as best he could, in spite of his captain's advice that he didn't. She apparently felt he'd survive longer if he left his body to heal naturally. Or maybe she thought she could think of something to dissuade Zaraki in that time.

Who knows?

What he knew was that he had a plan.

He had access to everywhere. He could do anything, and no one could stop him. Not when no one knew what he was planning.

He slid into the shadows as he left his domicile, grabbing certain items from around the hospital and various other places. Silently he crept onto the compound of the 11th division, and setting down the large sack he carried with him, dug into his keyring for the appropriate key to allow him access.

He began his work.

Soon.

Soon the 11th division would be no more.

Zaraki would survive, surely, but his hunt would be delayed certainly, even if he knew who was to blame.

If he was going to go, he'd go with a bang.

He almost giggled to himself, but restrained himself. Now wasn't the time.

Wait till you're back home, he'd told himself.

A thought came to him then. Why was he pointing the blame at himself? Why not just divert the attention? If the survivors were kept busy, maybe they'd forget him?

He worked a bit longer into the night, before going back home and flopping in bed, his bandages dirtied.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Night turned into day.

BOOOOOM

"ABARAI!!!! KUCHIKI!!!"

Explosions rang outside for the rest of the day, and Hanataro simply sighed happily while hugging his pillow. It sounded divine outside. Then Isane came by, and caught him up on what was going on after seeing that he was still fine and no one had attacked him while he was 'helpless'. No one died so far ('Drats,' a part of Hanatarou' dark mind thought), but it was a warzone outside between the 6th and 11th division.

Isane, worried for his wellbeing, had come to ensure he stayed out of the battlefield, a thought that warmed his heart. And when she admonished him for sitting up and wincing due to a pain in his shoulder, and forced him to lie back, offering to give him a back rub to help him, it was so very difficult to avoid moaning in happiness as those hands of her worked magic onto his tired bandaged back.

Yes. Today was going to be a good day. He just hoped the little war between the 6th and 11th lasted a while. And that Isane didn't think to change his bandages and find his body already mostly healed.

If he could keep her rubbing his back forever and ever, by god he'd find some way to do it.

Especially with those lovely sounds of screams and explosions ringing outside his home, and knowing he was nowhere in the middle of it.


	3. Take me with you

**Title:** Take me with you!  
**Characters: **Kurosaki Isshin, Shihouin Yoruichi, and Soi Fon  
**Entry Line: **"Okay, before anything else, I want you to know: This wasn't my idea."  
**Contest:** The second Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** How do you say no to the crying little ninja girl?

* * *

"Okay, before anything else, I want you to know: This wasn't my idea." 

Yoruichi stopped with one foot half outside the door, frozen. 'This can't be good.'

An impatient growl almost left her lips, but she reigned it in. Taking a deep breath, she turned around, planning on telling off that fool. He wasn't supposed to be seen here, certainly not this night of all nights.

"Isshin..." she started to say, when the sight in front of her made her stop. Her eyes darted away from the man's neck, and higher up to his apologetic looking face. "...oh, tell me you didn't."

Isshin, captain of the 10th division, would have shrugged if he could. As it was, Yoruichi has a clear idea of what had happened if not the how of it. It was hard not to tell, what with his arms high up in the air, the lack of zanpakuto at his side, the sweat on his brow, and in particular, the butterfly symbol on his neck, and the arm draped over his shoulder, the hand near the man's neck with a distinct gold and black item stretching out of the middle finger and resting on his chest, not to mention the easy to make out shape behind him, shaking much more than the man currently being held at essentially 'gunpoint'.

Yoruichi sighed and lowered her head, as she raised her hand and began rubbing her forehead in exasperation as the large man did his best attempt at a sheepish shrug with what movement he was allowed by the person on his back.

"Soi Fon, get off Isshin."

"No! I...he...is it true, Yoruichi-sama?" Soi Fon seemed desperate to stay hidden in the shadows.

Yoruichi looked over to her friend, their eyes meeting, and Isshin nodded. He'd told Soi Fon essentially everything that mattered, at least to the girl alone.

She sighed again. "Kisuke doesn't deserve to die over this, Soi Fon. I'm not going to let him die when I can save him."

"He's a criminal, Yoruichi-sama! The thing he invented should not exist!" The girl hiding in the shadows countered. "I can't let you throw everything you have here for that man! You can't possibly think they won't catch you and punish you too!"

Now, Yoruichi just looked plain crossed. "Who the hell do you think I am?"

She could feel a bit of shame from her young prodigy. "They aren't going to catch us, you know."

"I did."

The tone of voice is just a bit smug.

"Technically, all you've got is Isshin."

"Don't put it like that, Yoruichi!!!" the large man cried out, big fake tears, as if his life didn't depend on the whims of a devastated teenager. Ah well, nobody ever claimed the captain of the 10th was renown for his brains. "It makes me feel like I'm not special!"

The girl on his back didn't seem to know how to take his behaviour, so she just kicked him from behind. "Stand still, or I might accidently pierce you, you oaf!"

"Ow! You brat!" Isshin started shaking, before he felt a sharp poke on his shoulder, and remembered his situation. "Ah!!! That's right! I forgot about that!"

He turned to look at Yoruichi, tears still streaming from his eyes. "What are you teaching your kids, Yoruichi? Huh? Huh?"

Yoruichi meanwhile, had gone back to rubbing her forehead, muttering, "Noooo, don't tell Isshin, I said. He'll let something slip, I said. We'll never get away if he knows, I said. Fuck you, Kisuke. I should leave you to rot..."

"That's the spirit, Yoruichi-sama! Forget about that criminal!"

"Stop yelling in my ear, you brat!"

"I'm not a brat, you oaf! You take that back!"

"If you can't respect a captain and not treat him as anything but a hostage, then you aren't anything but a brat in my eyes, you brat!"

"Yeah, well if you're too stupid to get caught by a brat, then you don't deserve to be a captain, you oaf!"

"Brat!"

"Oaf!"

"Brat!"

"Oaf!"

"QUIET!!!"

Yoruichi glared at the two, her hazel eyes shining like glinting amber stones, her voice wasn't much louder than theirs, but it was loud enough to get their attention before they went louder and got someone -else- curious to what was going on. "Soi Fon. Stop threatening Isshin now."

"No! You won't listen to me if I do!"

"She has a point, Yoruichi."

"Do you -want- to die, you idiot?"

"Hey, now don't you go getting in on the insults. One brat's enough to deal with."

"Don't call Yoruichi-sama a brat, you oaf!"

"Ow! You kicked me again! Do that again and I'm ripping your head off the rest of your body even if it kills me!"

"You just try it!"

"Oh for the love of..." Yoruichi started to say before she suddenly vanished from her spot, and next thing Soi Fon knew, she was being held in mid air, her hand being grasped by Yoruichi who was staring down at her. "Were you -trying- to wake up everyone?" she hissed at her little apprentice, who looked like she was musing a new idea over after hearing that.

"Well..." was all Soi Fon said before she quickly drew in a breath of air, which was quickly knocked out of her as her leader delivered a sharp chop to the back of the girl's neck, knocking her out unconscious before she could give off a sharp yell.

The two butterfly figures on Isshin's neck and shoulder vanished, and Isshin grinned. "You couldn't do that as soon as you saw her holding me hostage?"

The woman grunted as she wrapped an arm around the girl dangling off her other arm, and laid her down on the wooden floor of the building. Closing the door, she glared at Isshin. "Do you want to explain now, or is this where I rip you apart for involving Soi Fon?"

"Technically speaking, she involved herself, and like I said, this wasn't -my- idea."

"Oh? Then whose was it. Soi Fon's? She's good, I'll allow that. Very, very good, even. But she's not good enough that she should have recognized anything out of the ordinary with you."

"Well, see that? That's the thing. She didn't recognize anything out of the ordinary with me. You on the other hand..."

"...Are you insinuating that the commander of the special forces can't hide her emotions, Isshin?"

"Oh, I'm not insinuating anything, darling," Isshin said, his face serious. "Your brat really looks up to you, and she seems to know you very well, it seems. She could tell something was wrong. She apparently spied on our meeting earlier tonight. We didn't say anything that would make sense to her, but we said enough."

Yoruichi scowled. "I must have been really preoccupied to not have noticed her."

"Well, we're both worried about Kisuke more than our own reputations here. If it wasn't for his request that I stay and keep an eye on things, I'd have been joining you guys too...Then again, it looks like I might have to now, thanks to your brat."

"How did she catch -you- anyhow? You're obviously not drunk."

"Let's say she caught me with my pants down and leave it at that, okay?"

"Ah, toilet attack."

"Huh? How'd you know?"

Yoruichi looked uncomfortable, and Isshin grinned widely. "Oh, this should be good."

"Well, let's just say it's not the first time she's done it, okay?"

"Oh c'mon, you know you want to share..." Isshin was almost pleading.

"Don't we have other more important concerns?"

"Well fine, but let it be noted that I'm letting the matter drop only under the strongest of reservations."

"Noted," was the dry remark.

"So back to the brat and Kisuke then?"

"Please don't refer to Soi Fon like that, would you?"

"She -is- a brat, you know. She's what, not even close to over a century old?"

"She's very mature for her age."

Isshin just rolled his eyes.

"Tonight doesn't count. You bring out the worst in everyone."

"I won't deny that accusation. But if you respect her, shouldn't you listen to what she has to say?"

"She already made it pretty clear, don't you think?"

"Did she?" The current leader of the 2nd division stared at the leader of the 10th, before her eyes settled on Soi Fon and softened slightly.

"Unngh...Y-yo-ru-i-chi-sa-ma..." Soi Fon began to mutter as she began to move slightly in the floor, coming out of the chop she was hit with earlier.

Both captains quickly shared a look and Yoruichi nodded, before they called upon the power of the 47th bakudo, "Sixteen Great Trees of the True Night's Forest." Each cast the spell, Isshin a few seconds slower than Yoruichi, both binding spells intertwining and wrapping around the room, encasing it in the silence spell.

With both spells up together to support one another, it'd be rather difficult for Soi Fon to get anyone's attention without them being able to stop her.

"Yoruichi-sama?" Soi Fon looked at the two captains, confusion in her eyes. She looked around. Why hadn't they left yet?

"Alright, look. You talk to the brat and hear her out. I'll wait outside, okay?" Isshin said abruptly.

"I'm not a brat!" Soi Fon muttered.

"Soi Fon. If you want me to listen, don't start that again."

She nodded tersely, glaring at Isshin. She was beginning to hate that man.

"Heh, guess you're right. I do bring out the worst in everyone. Don't go screaming once I'm gone...brat."

Isshin left.

Silence fell on the room as the young shinigami stared at her mentor and leader, scrumpling her outfit dreadfully into a mess, not sure where to start.

"You didn't leave," she finally said.

"Not yet."

"So you will."

"Yes."

"Because of Captain Urahara?"

"Just because he's labelled a criminal doesn't mean he deserves to be executed."

Soi Fon looked down.

"You can't just run," she muttered.

"We probably could. But we've made arrangements already for something much simpler."

"Why do you have to leave? I...you...it's not like you can't make it look like he escapes on his own?"

"Who'd keep him out of trouble then?"

"Captain Idiot?"

Yoruichi just looked at her, and Soi Fon began to sniffle. "I...I...I don't -want- you to leave, Yoruichi-sama. I -need- you!"

"No you don't. You're a big girl. I bet they'll even give you my job, don't you think?"

"I don't care about that! I just want to be with you!"

Soi Fon threw herself into Yoruichi's chest and hugged the other woman, who stroke her head gently.

"If...if you can't stay, at least take me with you, Yoruichi-sama!"

Yoruichi closed her eyes. Could she take this child with her and Kisuke to the human world?

"You'd resent me and Kisuke if we did."

"It'd be worse if you left me alone. I don't have anyone but Yoruichi-sama," Soi Fon whispered.

"That's because you only ever look at me, instead of at everyone that wants to be your friend," Yoruichi admonished, but Soi Fon just hugged her tighter.

"No one else treats me like you do."

"I was going to just leave, without even saying good bye."

"That...that's because you knew I'd end up coming if you did!" she insisted, so certain of herself once she made that assumption.

Yoruichi considered this, but didn't comment on her assumption. They simply kept talking.

* * *

Isshin turned his head to look at the door as it opened silently and his friend and the brat...no, two young women, left. The brat seemed to carry herself a bit more certainly. More confident. Didn't look half bad like that, not that he'd say anything. He just turned his head back up to the stars above. "Worked out everything with the brat, Yoruichi?"

"I think so."

"Time to mount a rescue for Kisuke then?"

"...Probably. We've left him waiting long enough."

"Do I need to pack my stuff?"

"...No. Don't worry about it. Soi Fon might need to do some packing though."

"I'll be fine."

"Heh. You're a big softie."

"You're one to talk."

"Yeah, yeah. Just remember...warn Kisuke to protect the toilet room. Wouldn't want him caught unaware, rig...OW! BRAT!"

"OAF!"

"QUIET!"


	4. Regression

**Title:** Regression  
**Characters: **Aizen Sousuke, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, and Hinamori Momo (with small appearances from Nemu and Hitsugaya)  
**Entry Line: **"Okay, before anything else, I want you to know: This wasn't my idea."  
**Contest:** The second Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** Another entry I made to this contest. This one can be a bit creepy and disturbing, but teaches the lesson that a woman scorned is not something to mess with lightly.

* * *

"Okay, before anything else, I want you to know: This wasn't my idea." 

Aizen awoke with a groan, and moved to rub his forehead, only to find his arms restrained. He tried to pull all of his limbs only to find every part of his body was tied up. Worse, he couldn't find comfortable weight of his zanpakuto by his side, and with how his arms were restrained, none of the kido known to him would aid him. His heart began to race, and he twisted his head to try and find who had just spoken to him.

He was covered in the shrouds of shadows, but what lighting was available made it easy to tell who was there. No one had a distinct mask quite like the head of the 12th division.

"If it was up to me, I would like nothing more than to examine your memories, to try and understand exactly how you manipulated that girl into becoming what she has. It's frighteningly beyond my comprehension...and I have been ordered...no, FORCED...to destroy you, Sousuke Aizen, former captain of the 5th division. Such a pity."

Aizen's head swam. How did he get HERE? He should still be in Hueco Mundo, seated at the throne of his new empire, giving commands to his created minions, the Arrancar espadas! What...had...happened? Perspiration fell down his brow as he looked at the needle in the hands of the surely insane director of the medical institute. The man was too much of a loose cannon for him to recruit into his army, but this man was now the one who held his life at his fingertips, all because he hadn't planned for this, because he hadn't secured his loyalty.

"Little Hinamori...no one really understood what you did to her. I, myself, had thought it just a simple brainwashing, quite rough, if I must add. But that wouldn't explain anything that followed, now would it?"

...What? Hinamori? Aizen looked confused. What on earth could his former little mouse of a vice-captain have to do with anything?

No...he was letting himself get distracted. He needed to escape. To regroup and figure out what had happened.

His head hurt.

Where were his minions?

"What...are you...talking...about?" he rasped out.

The figure paused, and moved closer to him. Aizen looked surprised at the sight. Mayuri's body and face...they looked so ravaged by time and scars. That moronic mask he remembered was ripped everywhere, and seemed stitched to the man's head. The worst part of it was how dead the man's eyes looked.

"Ah. You seem lucid today, Sousuke-kun. How are you today?"

Aizen looked confused, and opened his mouth to rasp something out again, but Mayuri laughed. "Why do I ask? I already know, I have you hooked up to too many machines not to. Nemu, anesthetic, please."

A large shape covered the light above him, as it descended down, blunt pain impacting upon his face. Trails of blood burst from his face as he heard dazedly a quiet "Again."

Then everything went black.

"The subject seems to be coming along nicely. My daughter had to be a bit rough with him, but regression seems to be going as expected, my lady."

Aizen's eyes blearily opened. Everything looked fuzzy. He tried to move. Chains rustled. He was tied up? What was going on? He couldn't feel Kyouka Suigetsu at his side... Panic set in.

Had his plans been discovered?

"Oh? Sou-chan seems awake," a melodic...yet -bitter- female voice commented.

His head turned to look over in that direction, but...he couldn't see. She was too far, hidden in the darkness. He could barely make out her shape, and only the voice made him certain it was a female.

"Yes, he awakens every now and then. I don't think he quite understands what is happening to him, but that's understandable."

"Good. When I have my revenge, I want it to be just like it was then. That day...I'll forever remember."

Aizen fought against the chains restricting him, but his body wasn't very responsive. He felt so weak.

"Of course, my lady. He'll be ready soon, don't worry."

"I am the captain of the 5th shinigami division in Soul Society. Who are you people?" Aizen demanded. Had Tousen betrayed him and Gin? He seemed to agree with the plan, damn him.

The female laughed again darkly. "Don't worry, my little captain," she said, as she strode over to him. He saw her briefly, as her fingers slipped within his hair, combing it in his normal style while he was hard at work. She looked...familiar? He eyed the zanpakuto at her side. A shinigami? "Soon, none of this will matter to you."

Aizen felt cold fear as another shape made itself visible, and he tried to pull away as he saw the needle spurting liquid approaching him. He tensed and began to fight against the chains before sharp electricity coursed through his body, a loud scream escaping his lips as his body shook, his head held down against the table his body was tied to, red lightning coursing away from those fingertips that had been caressing his hair.

His body went limp, and his eyes began to close from the pain. He felt something placed over his eyes as his eyes closed, and as he fought to try and figure out who this woman was, only one sound came from his lips before unconsciousness claimed him. "Hi..."

"Continue your experiments. I expect results soon...seeing Sou-chan again has made my blood boil with excitement again, after all this time."

"...Yes, my lady."

Aizen opened his eyes. His head hurt. He tried to move his hand to rub his forehead. Chains stopped him, and he paused, looking confused. What was going on?

He tried to remember. He had...just been found by a shinigami? He was going to be trained to be one? Where was he?

"Good morning, Sousuke Aizen. How are you this morning?"

"I...don't know?"

"Ah, you must be confused. What's the last you remember?"

"Why am I tied up?" his voice held a note of fear. What was going on? Hadn't he gotten a chance to change the world? Why was he on a table, like some sort of lab rat?

"Please answer the question."

"I...I had just been recruited to join the shinigami academy."

A pause of silence.

"Ah, good. We were testing to see your potential, when some of the drugs seemed to have reacted badly with you. It seems nothing serious has happened, though you are still in treatment."

Aizen did not believe. "Who are you?" he asked as he tried to find the person he was speaking to, looking to the right of him, where the voice came out from.

"Me? I'm nobody..."

Aizen felt a sharp pain from his left arm, and his arm tensed as he whipped to look in that direction. It wasn't anyone he recognized...was it?

His head began to hurt.

"Almost there...almost, I can be...free?" Mayuri muttered to himself.

Aizen yawned, blearily waking up. He rubbed his eyes, and looked around. His eyes hurt a bit, and he couldn't see very well. He was in an almost entirely empty room. Sitting in a chair off to the side, was a middle aged woman, looking into his eyes. He turned his head, and just looked at her. "Who are you?"

She ignored him, instead she stood up, and pressed a button on the wall.

He looked at her for a little while, before he tried to get down from the table he was on. He fell in a heap, a sting of pain coursing through his body, and a sob escaped his eye, before he reigned it in. No! He was not going to cry! He was a strong boy! They didn't cry!

A door slid open to the side, and someone entered. Aizen looked in his direction, and froze, backpedalling against the table's side. "Eep!"

"So you're awake," the old man rasped. He looked so...strange, and frightening, even with his eyes hurting like they did. "Come."

He turned and stepped back outside, and then stood there, waiting for him to come. Aizen just sat there frozen.

The old man repeated himself. "Come."

Against his better reservation, Aizen took a cautious step towards the old man, then another, careful of the pain he felt when moving, biting his lips to not cry out in pain. When he reached the man, the man began to walk down a corridor.

Aizen wasn't sure why, but his arm darted out and grasped the old man's hand. The old man stopped, and looked at him. Aizen stared back at him with curious eyes, and the old man snorted before gripping the hand, and walking again, almost dragging Aizen forward before Aizen got into the pattern of the old man's footsteps.

They walked in silence, Aizen not really certain what to say.

The place they were walking in...it was so white and barren. He didn't like it.

They walked and walked, and finally, they came upon a large set of doors.

The old man knocked. "My lady."

A pause of silence before a curt "Come." rang from inside. The doors opened on their own, startling Aizen, but he didn't look scared, instead he focused his eyes on what was beyond them, squinting his eyes to make out as much as he could.

A large table, with some clothing on the numerous chairs. At the end...a slab of a chair? A...throne? Was he going to meet a king? No...there was someone sitting there.

They moved closer. "Hello," Aizen said cautiously once the old man made him stop, and smacked his knee, forcing him to kneel.

"Hello!" said a pleasant sounding voice, before it turned scolding to the old man. "You didn't have to hit Sou-chan like that, Mayuri-san!"

Aizen thought he liked her whoever this person was. She must be the queen?

He squinted his eyes at her, and noticed she stood up and came closer to him. He felt her cup his chin, as she kneeled in front of him. "You can't see well?"

Aizen colored red, looking embarrassed, and he bit his lower lip, not wanting to agree.

The woman dug into a pocket, and pulled something...red? She opened it up and placed it on each side of his head, resting on his ears, and suddenly he could see more clearly. "How's that, Sou-chan?"

"..T-thank you!" Aizen blurted out. "You know me?"

"Of course I do, Sou-chan," the woman said with a pleasant smile. "Don't you remember me?"

Aizen shook his head, though he looked red. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We can just start over!" she said as she clapped her hands together, and Aizen smiled. "My name is Hinamori Momo, Sou-chan. How are you?"

"I'm..fine. Uhm...My name is Sousuke Aizen?"

She nodded, before she engulfed him in a hug. She was so much bigger than him, but she was very nice...he liked her.

"Nice to meet you again, Sou-chan. Why don't you go play with Shiro-chan? Shiro-chan? Come here, introduce yourself to Sou-chan!" She said as she turned her head, and another boy his age, no, maybe a little bit older popped up from behind the throne chair. Aizen hadn't seen the boy earlier, though that was understandable given the white uniform and white spikey hair of the boy.

"Now you two play nicely, okay? I'm going to talk with Mayuri-san for a bit, okay?" the older woman said pleasantly.

Aizen nodded, and impulsively hugged the woman. "Bye bye, Hinamori-neechan!"

She patted him on the hair, and he beamed at her, although 'Shiro-chan' frowned a bit.

He liked Hinamori-neechan.


	5. Old man temper

**Title:** Old Man's Temper  
**Characters: **All the Shinigami Division Captains (excluding the deserters)  
**Entry Line: **"We all wear our masks."  
**Contest:** The third Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** First entry I made where I was just being silly. Someone's trying to foil Yamamoto's meeting...

* * *

"We all wear our masks."

"No we don't, that's the hollows," someone said.

"The vizard too!"

"And Sajin!"

"I don't wear a mask anymore..." a voice muttered over the din of comments.

More people added their own commentary until a gnarled staff slammed against the ground, and everyone went silent.

Sounds of a throat clearing.

"I was speaking of -metaphorical- masks."

"Oooooh!"

"Like when Aizen became evil!"

"Or Soi Fon showed she wasn't a cold frozen bitch and blubbered on Yoruichi's shoulder!"

"Who said that! How do you know that? I'll kill you!"

"No, no, it'd be more like, Zaraki showing he has the soul of a poet!"

"Wait, what?"

"It could happen!"

Everyone looked at Zaraki who was smiling like some kind of loon.

"See! Look at that smile!"

Everybody started arguing, until they heard the creaking sound of wood breaking, and saw Yamamoto's gnarled staff cracked around his fist. His smile looked strained.

Everybody went silent.

"Now...as I was saying..."

The old man paused and looked around the room, before continuing. "The deep of the matter is that..."

Psssssssssss

He stopped and looked at the sound, his eyes settling on Byakuya sipping his tea, the loud sharp sip ringing in his ears, before Byakuya set down his tea cup.

The old man opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something, and then shook his head. This was Byakuya. It was surely just an accident. Right?

"Well, we are going to need to..."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH...Delicious."

The old man threw all the papers up into the air, and said, "The important stuff is in your handouts. Grab a copy and read it."

He took off, muttering about blasted children.

Everyone looked at each other, no one daring to say anything, until Zaraki slammed his feet on the ground, and his fist struck against the table, and he said with a manic grin. "Best. Meeting. EVER."

Sounds of agreement rang around the table, even from Byakuya.

Retsu Unohana gave a gentle giggle, and smiled at everyone. "Thank you for your help, I apologize for asking that of you all, particularly you, Kuchiki-san. I know how much you respect the general."

Byakuya shook his head politely. "It was no problem, Unohana-san. You know each and every one of us is always glad to be of assistance to you, and are aware of the importance of your time."

He paused and added,"And I do admit to finding the general's speeches...long-winded."

A resounding "Hear! Hear!" rang from the others.

"Still, thank you all. I have a lot of paperwork due, and needed to be out of here quickly," Unohana smiled at everyone again, before sniffing. "Does anyone else smell that?"

Everyone started looking around, sniffing. "It smells like something's...burning?"

Ukitake and Shunsui froze. "He wouldn't!" the exclaimed before rushing to the windows, and ripped the blinds open, to see fire blazing outside the building.

"...oh dear. That paperwork is going to be murder tonight now. Bother..." Retsu muttered crossly.


	6. Changed Roles

**Title:** Changed Roles  
**Characters: **Kurosaki Masaki, Kurosaki Ichigo, Zaraki Kenpachi and Kusajishi Yachiru (with appearances from various others)  
**Entry Line: **"We all wear our masks."  
**Contest:** The third Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** Second entry I made. Our memories might be lost to time, but never our instincts. And sometimes that's enough to start over.

* * *

We all wear our masks.

Not masks like, say, a hollow wears one, but...

Actually, that's not quite true, if I think about it.

True, the hollow's is actually physical, while the rest of us tend to have to make do with how we act, what we say, what we do.

But our masks serve the same purpose. The hollow hides his pain from the real world in a mask of rage and destruction. While the rest of us don't go about raging and destroying everything we care about, we do hide who we really are inside, we project the image of someone else rather than show our own pain.

Some of us simply use a smile, others use their appearance, and others simply use their behavior, all to say that everything is fine, when their heart is really beating wildly, when all they want to do is reach out, and say you're sorry. When you want someone to hold you, and love you.

Few people have no need for masks. Some of us need them entirely too much. Some of us don't even realize the masks we're wearing.

"I hate you, momma! I hate you!"

I can still see it in my mind's eye. The face of my little boy.

Thick streaming tears leaking from his eyes as he glares at me before turning around, and running.

I...I wonder.

Why couldn't he see me? My little boy, who always saw only me. Who could see what none other could see. Why couldn't he see me?

I think, perhaps, he didn't want to see my ghost. He felt like it was all his fault. Perhaps, he was blinding himself to me, and because of that, I couldn't say good-bye.

My sweet innocent little boy.

It broke my heart to hear him say he hated me. And that he was glaring right at me...and still couldn't see me...

Tears stained my cheeks, my dress stained on the muddy slope as I just lay there, looking at the running figure of my little boy. It was all I could do after all.

I can hear footsteps as someone approches. It's my new friend. He said he was a shinigami, and came to take me to heaven. I felt like I was being ripped from it instead.

He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I looked towards him with stricken eyes. He looked a few years older than my boy, with hair as white as snow. He was very mature, and comforting, not at all how a boy should be, a part of me thought. He should be more like my little boy, I wanted to think, but I was glad for his gesture.

"Are you ready to go now?" he asked gently.

"...yes. Thank you for waiting. I know you didn't have to."

"It's fine. I heard. You know he didn't mean that, right? He's just a boy."

"Speaking from experience?" I teased half-heartedly.

He huffed. "No! It's just...we're both men. I can understand. I'm a lot older than you, I told you already. Just because I look young doesn't mean I am."

I smiled. He'd explained that he'd been born in heaven. Spirits aged more slowly there than they did over on this side. "Well... I hope he grows up as good a man as you," I offered as I kissed him in the forehead, making him blush.

"Why'd you think he'd be able to see you? He seemed like he might have some amount of spiritual energy, I admit, but nothing that should let him see a spirit."

"Does it matter?" I knew he could before. Perhaps my death had left him in turmoil, but I couldn't do more for him. And Toshiro-kun explained what happened when a spirit lingered with too much remorse and pain in their heart on this world. I didn't want to risk becoming some monster like the one that killed me. Like the one that took me from my family. The thought of what I might do as one, what I might first do, was enough to push me to try and let go. I can only hope to see them again some day. Hopefully years from now, years and years.

"I'm ready, shiro-chan."

He nods, without making a face at the cute little moniker I tagged him with when I first met him, and the serious young boy gently presses the hilt of his sword against me, and I feel so light...

* * *

I had no name. I had no parents. If I ever existed before this life, I didn't recall it. All I could remember was the bloody color of red. I probably wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for him. He gave me a name. A family. The strength to live.

He was very important to me. I don't think anyone else could have someone as important to them like he is to me.

But I could never really help him before. He was so strong he didn't need help, to be fair. But this stranged strong orange haired boy who stood up to my Ken-chan made him want to get stronger again. To want to accept the help of others so he wouldn't tie again. Perhaps...now I'd be able to help him? Even if he didn't learn his zanpakuto's name, he had my name! I was happy.

I told him so. How we'd get stronger together. Him and me.

He was silent.

"Ken-chan?"

I moved closer.

"Ken-chan..."

He's not moving.

"Ken-chan!" I start to push at his chest. I started to have a panic attack.

Why didn't I jump in and take that strike? Did I have to lose my precious pers...

Ugh...my head, it hurt. An image of an expressionless girl, with frightening eyes. A little boy, with warm eyes. Both flashed through my head. My back suddenly ached fiercely.

I bit my lips and picked up Ken-chan, no time to think. Ken-chan taught me that. Sometimes, you just don't think. You just do. It's always worked before for him and I. No reason not to anymore.

I tried not to think about how the boy's hair looked just like Ichii, the boy who just fought Ken-chan. I had a life to save right now. Hopefully.

...I don't want to say I hate Ken-chan because he's left me all alone.

* * *

Ken-chan is fine now. We've made some new friends too. They're Ichii's friends! Ken-chan wants to help them find Ichii again and save their other friend. Ken-chan is so nice...Baldie is a meanie though. He says he hates it when I lead...

It's not my fault I have a bad sense of direction! I'm still young! And Ken-chan gets us places sooner or later and we see new things too!

Like just now, Ken-chan found some new playmates! He looks excited, so I grab big boobies and big bear and and wrestler guy and mustache guy. We can go find Ichii! I didn't grab the others. They looked just as excited as Ken-chan. And Ken-chan wouldn't scare me again. He won't ever lose. He won't even tie, if it was against those guys!

* * *

The execution was starting. I tell the others that I'll go up ahead. Ichii might be there, I needed to go help him. I smile and laugh as big boobies says something nice. Ichii is Ken-chan's friends. So I need to help him.

That's...right.

Right?

The image of a little orange haired boy flashes through my eyes again. He looks like such a crybaby. My heart hurts though. Like when I thought Ken-chan was...

I scowl, I speed up. Faster. I need to be faster. So fast I can't be cut down by anything, that I won't let anyone else be cut down by anything.

Faster.

My eyes are locked on the execution rack, and the tiny figure held between it. Then on the giant birdie...I wonder if Ken-chan can get me one to play with. That one looked like it was going to go bye bye.

I noticed Ichii before anyone else did, I think. He looked so strong and bright. Like Ken-chan. Maybe better? A feeling of...pride?

The feeling surges through me, and the picture of the crybaby that looks like Ichii and this Ichii superimpose on one another. The feeling gets stronger.

"You've gotten strong, Ichii," I feel myself saying. No...it's not me? I look around. Is there an enemy? I don't feel like there's anyone to fight, but there's someone there. I can feel it.

It's...a woman? She looks very kind. I feel safe. I look at her.

"Hello, Yachiru-chan," she says brightly.

I'm confused and don't react as she places her hand on my head, running and keeping up with me. Who is she?

"I'm you, Yachiru-chan," she says. "If you need me, if Ichii needs me, if Ken-chan needs me, just call for me, and I'll always be here."

She rubs my head, and my eyes blink. Suddenly she's gone.

I'm confused, but that clears up as I look back at Ichii. The giant birdie's gone. Hey...he's breaking the rack. He looks so cool...

I start giggling as he throws that girl at crayon face. Ichii is funny and cool. I'm going to go watch him fight Bya-chan.

* * *

I'm looking at my sword. Ichii and his friends are gone. Throughout Ichii's and Bya-chan's fight, I wanted to interfere. It was an annoying little desire I ruthfully surpressed. It's a good thing too, I wouldn't have seen how strong Ichii and Bya-chan had gotten otherwise. I probably wouldn't have been able to help too much out either.

But I had wanted to protect Ichii...

No...I'm looking at my sword.

Words had been dancing in my head since that fight. I'm back with Ken-chan and baldie and everyone else. I'm alone. Ken-chan's reminder of how horrible it is to not have a name comes back to me. The words, I say them, just to see what happens.

"Intersect...Masaki."

rip riiip riiip riip

I giggle, my voice sounds deeper. My boobies seem bigger. My hair longer. I look like the pretty lady, except with my pink hair. I wonder why?

My sword seems to laugh with me. It's changed too. I bet Ken-chan would be impressed with our changes. But I'll keep this a secret, I think...at least until Ken-chan and his friend meet. Like Masaki and me.


	7. Just Another Mask

**Title:** Just another mask  
**Characters: **Urahara Kisuke, Aizen Sousuke, and someone else  
**Entry Line: **"We all wear our masks."  
**Contest:** The third Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** Third entry I made. Sometimes, these things just write themselves, and leave us shivering. I'm not sure how this came into being, but I think it's pretty cool.

* * *

We all wear our masks.

A human, from the moment he can recognize another human or spiritual being, will begin to form a mask. Throughout his life, he'll create many masks, one or more for every other human that he'll meet. Strip down every single mask he's created, and all you'll find is the knowledge a shell has accumulated over his life, and nothing more.

That is not to say, that there isn't some sort of core within him driving what he is, a soul, if you wish to call it such. A soul is the one true truth that deep inside a person believes in regards to others and himself. One true truth to direct many of that human's masks.

And yet, for one true truth, a human will not always follow it. He is, after all, a human. The accumulation of his entire being, is a hundred, no, a thousand, no, a million, no...really, the accumulation is as many masks as there are souls in the world, and perhaps even more. And just one soul.

Is it quite so strange...that with so many masks to wear...that sometimes...just sometimes... he simply believes the one true truth to be nothing but another mask?

Is it quite so strange...that sometimes...sometimes is often? That sometimes, sometimes is usually? That sometimes...sometimes is rarely? That sometimes...sometimes is entirely too many things all at once?

As long as he gathers knowledge, any sort of knowledge, as long as he has the presence of mind to be able to use it in an infinite number of ways...can you expect anything else?

This is what it means to be human. To be a ghost. To be a hollow. To be a gillian, an adjuchas, a vasto lorde, a shinigami, a vizard, an arrancar, a mod soul and so many others.

They are all truths wrapped in masks, though...there are, to be fair... differences in how those masks are worn, and how their truths exist.

Some examples, I believe I shall give you. I shall start simply, for what I have to say will surely confuse you. If it has not already, that is. I apologize, but I would be most happy if you are thoroughly confused. But let us move onto those examples, and not think on why I would wish you to be perplexed.

A human is a truth wrapped by masks made flesh.

A ghost is a truth wrapped by masks made spirit.

A hollow is a truth wrapped so deeply by an underterminate amount of the worst of his masks, you cannot even see the masks made spirit underneath those other masks. All that you can see is a frightening mask of death, if you can even see anything at all. It is a truth lost within its masks.

A shinigami is a truth split into two perfectly interlocking pieces of truth that never truly interlock. One of these pieces is, essentially a ghost. A piece of the truth wrapped by masks made spirit. The other piece is raw truth... not -the- truth, you must understand, merely a part of it. It is a voice that resonates within the shinigami only as strongly as the shinigami wishes to let it, and strangely enough, only once the sword has begun to create masks with which to reach out for its other half. He is contradictory being, where one half of him must create masks to be heard even though it was made to listen, and the other half must strip them so he can listen even though it was made to speak.

A vizard is even more contradictory than a shinigami. He too has two interlockable pieces of truth. The masks between them acts as a strong bridge between both pieces, but they are a toll bridge, one that comes at a price. A vizard is truth on a scale, tittering on edge from both sides. He is a truth that sacrifices the interlocking components of itself to the lies. He is a half-truth. He is a truth with a convinient mask to put on and take of whenever he wishes to delude to himself that he is being true to himself or excuse himself when needing to blame something for not being so.

An arrancar is the truest of beings and the falsest of beings. He is a being of many truths, that has accepted a mask as truth, and weilds his truths as masks. How strange that must be. If the truth is his mask and the masks his truths...is an arrancar the most destructive of beings because it needs to destroy others to create more masks from their truth? Or is it the truest of beings by dispatching away all other masks to free one more truth?

I wonder if you are confused by now. It would be most pleasing if such was true. I will likely find myself being much more reasonable from this point on, and I would hate if you weren't confused enough that you could make sense of it. I could simply not write past this point, I suppose, but then, what would have been the point of writing anything at all?

The show ain't over till the fat lady screams from having her leg torn off, I always say!

...oh dear. And I'd said I was going to be more reasonable from this point on. Bother that.

Let us try again.

There is a world where all these beings and more exist. It is a wonderful and frightening world.

In it, only two men have so far sought to strip apart truth and masks, and perhaps, one of them will or has succeeded, perhaps both, perhaps neither.

I believe I shall tell you what I know of them.

One was named Kisuke Urahara. He sought to strip them apart by understanding the truth, and came quite close to understanding by studying himself and his masks. He stripped those masks off one by one, without a second glance at any of them. He was determined after all, to discover the truth. He was a scientist, and was this not what scientists did?

For every mask he peeled, however, he became more withdrawn, more obsessed, though certainly more knowledgeable about masks and the lies they are. He created many great and terrible things with this knowledge, some would say, but none triumphed or ever shall triumph, what he one rainy day made. Not that he would have known if it was rainy, although he'd probably have appreciated the sentiment of it having been raining. Rain, after all, erodes things. And was this not what he wished to do with masks?

One day he simply locked himself away within his workshop. No one could get to him, not his greatest of enemies, not his greatest of friends. No one.

No one heard from him for six nights and five days time. As a rooster crowed somewhere in the human world at the time of dawn, so too did a frightening and terrifying laughter crow from within that locked up workshop. His friends pounded upon the door. They struck at the walls. They shouted and pleaded, calling out, "What's wrong, my friend? What's wrong?"

Only laughter continued to crow out. "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!"

Over and over again.

Seconds turned to minutes turned to hours. Tickity Tock. Tickity Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Finally the laughter ended in a coarse whisper. One full day had passed.

One more night and more day, and the door to the workshop opened.

"Why hello!" the man that was not Kisuke Urahara greeted brightly his enemies and frowned at his friends.

Blank stares and questioning looks.

"Toodle loo!" was all the man said, as he strutted down the road, cartwheeling and jumping, and everything in between, and everything not in between.

Some followed after him in concern or curiosity. Others, were more curious over what happened within that secret workshop.

They peeked inside.

It was madness. Many things were broken, many things were in pristine condition, scribbles mixed with unfathomable mathematical algorithms were sketched all over the place, and this chaotic mess there rested a little shining orb held above the flooring inside the palm of a glove, with a piece of paper folded like a tent at its side, with ink marks on both sides. One side stated "Hougyoku" in neat, beautiful calligraphy. "Crumbling Orb" is perhaps a word you're more familiar with. Or not. I'm sure you've heard the term somewhere before, and if not, I will not say another word on that matter. Instead, I shall tell you two more things about that orb. One was what it was believed to do, another is what was written in the chaotic message on the other side of that folded paper tent.

Kisuke would never tell you if you spoke to him of it, and you would never be able to decrypt it.

Which shall I say first...

Hrm...I believe...that I shall start...with...

Thump Thump

"Kisuke Urahara. You have been accused of creating a device that will bridge the powers between those of a shinigami and hollow. How do you plead?"

"Guilty, my good sir!"

"Kisuke! What are you doing?!?"

"Why doing the right thing! I did invent it, you know. Very impressive, isn't it?"

"You...take pride in that thing?"

"Yep! Yep!"

"Kisuke!"

"He's gone mad!"

"Mad as a hatter! Whee! Look at my hat! It's green and white! Isn't it wonderful!"

"...Kisuke."

"He needs to be put out of his misery. He's not the Kisuke I once knew..."

"You can't do that! We should try to help him!"

"Isshin, I understand he is...was...your friend. But surely you can see that he's no longer the Kisuke you once knew..."

"La! La! La! La! La!"

"Enough! Someone take him away already!"

"I'll do it, commander."

"Good. Perhaps then we can proceed with judgement now..."

I suppose I gave you more information than you wished to see. I think I shall spare you the message from the other side, and instead go on into the life of the other man.

His name is Sousuke Aizen. Whereas Kisuke sought to strip apart truth and mask by studying truth, Aizen did the opposite, and focused on studying masks. So masterful was his study of them, that the only person to understand how deeply he buried his own truth under two separate masks was a young girl he attempted to murder in the moment that he switched betwee them for good. No one understood her when she muttered about his two masks. Poor girl, that Hinamori girl.

But this isn't a story about her, so we shall move on. If you wish to know about her, well, perhaps someone will one day explain what she discovered. Perhaps someone already has. I'm certain someone else has surely come to the realizations that I have and has tried to do this already. If you search well enough, you might find it, but beware.

I cannot say more, just...beware. I can tell you that the person, if such exists, has some regrets over writing what he did. Perhaps he would feel that he is lying to you, or that he has not been entirely truthful. Who could truly say?

No one, that's who. So I'd like to say "Let's move on!", but I have found myself in a quandry I did not realize I had until this very moment.

Aizen's tale, I actually realize, has not yet been fully written. I do not wish to reveal too many of his secrets, so instead I shall just say one thing there. The mask he currently wears is the one he created to learn.

I wonder, perhaps, what he's studying right now?

I shall not say more on that, but I realize I had promised to reveal the story of both men. I hope you shall forgive me for not telling Aizen's if I return back to Kisuke's.

Kisuke Urahara is a bit more himself these days, if you could call it that. He is still not the man he used to be, but to be fair, that likely will never happen. After all, Kisuke Urahara is just a mask worn by a truth peeled of all it's other masks. He does not speak to as many people as he used to, so he has a limited range of masks besides the ones he created in that one day and night since that awful laughter. He is, at the very least, alive in as many ways as Aizen is dead to the world. And I'll tell you a secret. He knows of Aizen's studies, and pities the man, yet also waits with glee, as if awaiting a dearly beloved comrade.

No? This is not enough?

You wish to know about myself?

Hrm, I do not know what I could say on that matter. I said we all wear masks, did I not?

I am but a mask, of someone young or old, of someone male or female, of someone bright or foolish. I am not entirely certain myself. As I am but a mask, I cannot introduce myself, truly.

_**The message on the other side was Kisuke's one true truth.**_

No! What are you doing! Stop! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! ST

_**"My name is Tite Kubo. Your name shall be Kisuke Urahara, and you shall help me write a story, my precious mask."**_

Oh god...

Oh god...

Oh god...

_**Heh. Heh. Heh. Heh.**_

THEY WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO KNOW!

NO! NO! NO!

_**I wonder, Kisuke...what does their truth say?**_

GO AWAY!!! YOU'RE NOT REAL!!!

_**What's wrong Kisuke? Isn't this just another story to tell? You've been helping me, after all.**_

Why?

_**Why? They're only more of my masks, just like you. I want to see what stories I can write with them...**_


	8. Rational Animals

**Title:** Rational Animals  
**Characters: **Nell/Neliel, Noitora, Kurosaki Ichigo and Kurosaki Masaki  
**Entry Line: **"We all wear our masks."  
**Contest:** The third Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** Another entry I made in this contest. Shows a different side of the coin from Chapter 6's entry "Changed Roles"

* * *

We all wear our masks.

Sometimes we've worn them for so long, that we don't even remember who we are underneath them.

I was like that.

Bits and pieces of my real self shone through my mask, but for the most part, I was just the same as them.

A part of me still yearned to be loyal to Aizen, but I think that was the part of me that recognized he was stronger than me. The part of me that believed that those with strength had the power to rule or discard those below them as they please.

It was the part of me I hated most, because it made me feel so much like an animal. That part of me that made me feel like Noitora had the right idea.

But even if we were monsters in our own right, we weren't monsters controlled by our urges. Not anymore.

And if even back then, I could resist the urge to kill them, when I truly was nothing more than an animal, I could resist the urge to be controlled by those base desires of destruction. We were rational beings after all, us espada more than any other arrancar.

Because each and every one of us espada had already, on our own power, managed to escape that hell of non-existance we'd once lived as a gillian. We were already rational to some degree before Aizen came in, with the power of his crumbling orb, and changed us into something more...human.

Really, the only line separating us espada wasn't the power of the hollows we had consumed as an adjuchas or even as a vasto lorde if any of us supposedly ever was one.

That itself was too pitifully close in the grand scheme of things, no matter how much anyone claimed that a vasto lorde vastly overpowered an adjuchas and an adjuchas could overpower a gillian or mere hollow.

No, while Noitora had partly the right idea that we got stronger from the fights we lived through, he still doesn't seem to understand that why we fight is part of our strength. Our ability to not just fight for some base instinct, but our will to live, to defend something whether its our pride, our own being, or whatever we fight for, whatever we fought to keep when we became self-aware, that is what really grants us our power.

My love for my family was my power.

It was a strong thing, this love.

When I first became a hollow spirit after being ripped apart by Grand Fisher's trap, I remained in Hueco Mundo, fighting my instinct to kill my family. No...more than that, I fought to stay away, to keep them from seeing the monster I'd become.

My family was special, you see.

True, any loving mother would say that about her husband and children. But when I meant special, I meant special beyond even that. My darling little boy was powerful, he could see spirits as if they were real people. A banquet, for us monsters. I think I could still resist devouring his soul, if only I could see him smile at me always.

But I was also afraid of what they would think of the creature I'd become. So I fought. Raged at the injustice of being so close to being able to see them again, to maybe, say goodbye properly. Fighting against my instinct to feast on Ichigo and Yuzu and Karin and Isshin. Fighting against other hollows, ripping apart those that I could, those monsters just like me, yet so unlike me. Fought and fought until one day I lost, and was the one being consumed instead of the other way around.

I don't really remember what happened after that. One day, all I know, was that I opened my eyes, floating, encased in a bubble of green light, keeping an infinite darkness away. It was an endless existance. I could not move except within my bubble of light, not do anything but exist. At the very least, I felt a bit more like myself rather than the monster I'd become. I didn't feel rage and hatred like I once used to.

Merely more at peace with myself.

I could remember my family better than I ever could under the cloud of emotions I had previously felt. I could see Yuzu as a baby, playing with her food. Karin showing me her dribble her soccer ball. Ichigo smiling brightly at me as he held my hand. Isshin smiling brightly at me as I told him how cool he looked with that cigarette lit in his lips, before he opened the whole pack and put them to his mouth, as if more of them would make him even cooler, but instead only serving to make me giggle. I remember feeling loved and being able to give it.

I wanted to feel that again.

I think every one of us espada had been like that. We fought to remember a certain feeling, fought for it to the point of obsession. The power of our spirit expanded, until we washed away most of the darkness, and simply, took control.

That day when I took control, I could feel the rage and hatred come rushing back at me from all sides. But more than that, I could feel the memory of my family, helping me keep those feelings somewhat at bay. The only time since that day that I would embrace the power that came from that rage and hatred were when I had to fight to survive. To continue to remember. I didn't want to forget. Not again! Never again!

I kept winning too. Because I wasn't fighting just with rage and hatred anymore. I was tempered by my love. I could be cautious now. Learn. Study. Adapt.

I fought and fought, an endless existance, until Aizen brought order to our world. I think that was the main reason I followed that cold man. Not because he gave me back a human face and a human body with which I could touch, smell, see, hear, and just -feel-, however great that feeling was, but because I no longer needed to fight endlessly.

To our mad existance of endless eating and absorbing one another, he set down rules, structure, organization.

And I was near the very top, so it meant I almost never fought. I was one of Aizen's precious 'espada'. His third strongest. Who would dare to fight me after the man who changed our very lives, who defined what we do and what we believed, said that I was so strong that he'd carve his special number on my back? An honor, they said, only ten such as myself could have.

Most of the other espada left me alone, and I in turn did the same with them, unless I saw them abusing someone else. Like Dondo and Pessche. While they had been self-aware as hollows, they'd still been gillian-class before they became arrancar, and in Aizen's eyes, that meant their power was pitiful. And because he believed it to be such, because his cold unwavering eyes said it to be such, so did everyone else.

I took them in, these two strays that could easily stab me in the back. I protected them, and helped them grow stronger. I think, in part, I could make a family for myself again, and with my power, it would never be ripped apart again.

Foolish me. I did say that most other espada left me alone, did I not? There was this pest who insisted I fight him, and no matter how many times I put him down, he stood up again, and struck at me, again and again. His name was Noitora, the 8th espada, so pathetically weak compared to me, and he kept uselessly striking at me over and over. To me he was nothing more than a mere animal. How he evolved past the gillian stage of being I couldn't comprehend, all he seemed to be capable was fighting and fighting, as if he was the strongest, when he was anything but that. He irked me with his talk of how as a woman it wasn't my place to be above him, he irked me with his desire to fight, he irked me with how he leered at my body even as he sought to scar and obliterate me.

Too bad. I was the third espada, and he the lowly 8th. Heh. I fell into the trap of arrogance, and paid for this with my new family. I accepted the punishment he dealt me for that arrogance. I returned to that endless darkness.

But Ichigo brought me back. The little boy whom I used to protect so fiercely from the dangers of the world was returning the favor. I couldn't help but respond. To awaken again from my endless darkness.

"Ichigo, you've grown into a fine young man...But you've done enough...This time, I will protect you. Like I did in the past, like I'll continue to do so again."

I think now I realize why Noitora acted as he did, He irked me because I irked him. He was trying to push me to fight me with my all, and either end his existance or accept it. He was still an animal in my eyes, but at least it was one I could understand a bit better. He had this strange code of warrior's pride that was probably what pushed him forward.

But just because I understood it, didn't mean I didn't think he was still not an animal. And animals needed to be put down when they hurt someone just for the sake of hurting them.

And this animal had just hurt my son.

And he was going to pay.

"Mama...?" I heard a mumble from behind me, but I simply stared at Noitora, my blade pointing directly at his head. "It...can't be..."

There would be time enough to talk again. Perhaps he can accept this current existance of mine. Perhaps he won't. But I won't run this time. I'm through with running.

I will jump over all the hurdles in my path, keeping me from holding my family and destroy anything that would make me let go, and I won't look back and regret anything at all. Aizen gave me my human form. Noitora gave me my humility. Dondo and Pessche gave me back a family. But my son gave me the greatest of gifts. He gave me back my humanity.

"Declare..." I began to say, long forgotten power swirling around me once again, as I let Masaki and Nell sleep within me.

It's time for Neliel Tu Oderschvank to fight again. To show Noitora, what the number on my back means to me. It's not about Aizen or beliefs or anything complex any more.

It's just a fight between two rational animals who want to rip each other apart.

I figure, it's the least I can offer Noitora before I rip his fucking head off for treating my son like he has.


	9. Grimmjow hates WAFF

**Title:** Grimmjow hates WAFF  
**Characters: **Nell/Neliel/Kurosaki Masaki, Kurosaki Ichigo and Grimmjow  
**Entry Line: **"We all wear our masks."  
**Contest:** The third Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** This entry connects to the previous one, though it's mood is much lighter.

* * *

We all wear our masks.

But they're just masks. They can be removed.

People can then see our faces, and we theirs, without obstruction.

I've removed that mask of a child, and stand strongly again, thanks to Ichigo's help.

Because I want him to see him through my own eyes and not those of a child. I want him to see me not through the eyes of a vizard or shinigami, but those of a child.

My power awoke again.

Noitara's own power responded to mine.

He'd gotten stronger.

But.

It.

Just.

Wasn't.

Strong.

ENOUGH.

It was a longer fight than I thought possible, I'll admit that much, but I never doubted in my abilities. Not when losing would mean my son might drown in sorrow once more. Not when his life was on the line as Noitora's next victim if I didn't stop him. Noitora, after all, enjoyed nothing better than killing off strong opponents, and my son was strong.

Finally, I beat Noitora to the ground, and dug a clawed hand into his shoulder, ripping his limbs off, ignoring his screams.

His lackey attempted to stop me, his loyalty was surprising, but Noitora yelled at him to stop. Wether to stop him from dying to the cero I would have returned or simply his warrior's pride, I don't know, but I imagine the second to be more likely.

He panted, his throat coarse, and he smiled at me.

"Will you spare me again, as you have every other time, Neliel? Or will you finally have the guts to destroy me?"

I answer by digging my claw into his neck, blood spurting out and drenching my arm completely crimson. "I hope you found what you wanted in this life, Noitora."

"Heh. I knew your self-righteous appearance was never the real you..."

He smiles at me one final time. It is a pleased, happy smile. "For a woman...you ain't half bad..."

I rip his head off, impaling it on his zanpakuto, and then digging those blades into the very earth itself before destroying his body with a cero.

His head slowly begins to vanish, cut by his zanpakuto as it was, he will likely be able to rest in piece and head to Soul Society. I'd like to think that, at least.

I watch his smiling head until it is completely gone, and then turn to the others, looking at Ichigo with melancholy eyes.

Ichigo's eyes are uncertain. Anger, fear, worry, disbelief, awe, shock, they all cicle through those still gentle eyes of his, those eyes that can only turn into raw fury when something important to them is harmed. He may have many of his father's features, but that at least, he got from me.

I took a step towards him, and he took a deep breath.

"Ichigo..." I murmured.

"You...Nell...what..." he whispers. He's dropped his blade, and just looks at me. His friend, that girl with big breasts looks just as confused as my little Ichigo. "...mom? But...how?"

I smile. It looks like he understands. I am who I am.

I hug him. He tenses up, but I just hug him more tightly.

"I missed you, Ichigo."

His body melts upon mine, and he murmurs, "Mom...it's...it's...really...you..." before he hugs me back, his eyes burying themselves into my chest, and tears slowly choking out of him. I rub his spikey hair. "Yeah...it's me."

A retching sound could be heard from nearby. We both turned to look in that direction, Ichigo pulling back a bit, and rubbing his eyes with the hem of his robes. I find myself doing the same for my own wet face, before our eyes settle on the body of Grimmjow, propping himself up unsteadily.

"UGH! COME ON, PEOPLE! WHAT'S WITH THE GODDAMN DRAMA! THAT'S JUST DISGUSTING!" his face scrunches up in disgust. "I can't -believe- I lost to some sissy momma's boy."

Ichigo trembled, a tick apparent in his forehead, as he reached for his zanpakuto. I giggled. -That-, he got from his father.

"I mean, hot -damn-, at least your mother wasn't an emotional train wreck in her fight. She just ripped apart that asshole! It was beautiful! Now -that- was a freaking fight! Me? What do I get? The sissy momma's boy? BAH!"

"You want to go at it again, Grimmjow?!?" Ichigo shouted.

"Hell yeah, you bet your wussy little ass! I will -not- admit defeat to you!"

Boys.

I snort and giggle into my hand, and look up at the sky.

I'm through with masks.


	10. Yummy

**Title:** Mmmm...Yummy  
**Characters: **Halibel, Nell!Masaki, Ichigo and his group, Aizen and his group  
**Entry Line: **"We all wear our masks."  
**Contest:** The third Bleach omake contest.  
**About:** This entry connects to the previous two, but is just me being silly. I probably shouldn't have connected them, but I think it made the ending work better. Still, it's not particularly about Nell and Masaki.

* * *

We all wear our masks.

I've divested myself of mine. But Ichigo still wears his losely, as does his new friend Grimmjow.

Boys are funny in that respect. They'll fight each other, and when it's over, if the fight was good enough, whatever issues they had with one another are generally over. They may act tough and rude and condescending, but there's this respect thing going on between them then. That's currently what it was like between Ichigo and Grimmjow.

I find it cute. Especially so, because that girl, Orihime, still seems confused about everything that's happened.

After a short scuffle between Ichigo and Grimmjow, where I had to step in and stop them, we moved on. We fought more of Aizen's forces, although we didn't encounter more espada, instead we went and met up with Pessche and Dondo, as well as the rest of Ichigo's friends. One of them was badly injured, and may have died were it not for Grimmjow's action. He wasn't gentle, but kicking everyone off the girl as she tried to say her last words and dropping Orihime atop her and ordering her to do her thing, at least, saved her life.

I think Ichigo stopped glaring at him quite so much after that. I'm proud of him for that.

Eventually we reached Aizen's inner sanctum. I smiled.

Ichigo and his human friends. Orihime. Ishida. Sado.

His shinigami companions. Rukia. Renji.

His arrancar allies. Grimmjow. Pessche. Dondo. Myself.

We were a small army that had decimated the worst that Aizen could throw our way. What did he have left? A few espada under his command, a mix of random arrancar, his two shinigami associates. Not much at all.

Everyone shared a glance, and as one, we slammed our power against the massive door leading in, blasting it apart by the force of our will, obliterating it into chunks of flying debris even as we stepped in, our weapons all at the ready.

We were not immediately met with blades at our throat, but a bored clapping suprisingly enough.

_CLAP_

_CLAP_

_CLAP_

_CLAP_

In front of them was a massive table, where the five remaining espada males sat. Behind them, the former shinigamis, Ichimaru Gin and Kaname Tousen, stood at the base to the throne Aizen had claimed for himself. That man himself, the shinigami renegade known as Sousuke Aizen, sat lazily on the throne seat, his legs crossed comfortably, as he sat with his head resting against the back of the stone slab he sat on and called his throne. His eyes stared upwards, to the sky, where the blue sky shone through the roofless building, as he clapped six times.

His eyes came down upon us, a predatory smile adorning his lips, as he looked at us with cold eyes. He shifted his arms, and moved his right arm so his arm was propped on its elbow at his side, and he clenched his hand into a fist where he rested his head, lazily looking down upon us.

A familiar woman stood by his side.

"Halibel," I murmured.

"You know her, mom?" Ichigo whispered to me, though not removing his eyes off Aizen.

"Mmm...she was one of my fracciones, once upon a time," Neliel/Masaki replied.

Aizen's eyes turned upon me, and I shivered slightly under his gaze. Ichigo grasped his zanpakuto more tightly at my reaction, but I shook my head, as I looked into Aizen's eyes.

"Oh? What have we here...Neliel Tu Oderschvank. How...fascinating. I thought you dead? How is it that you are back from the dead?"

"Ask Halibel. She was spying on us, was she not?" I threw back.

Taciturn Halibel looked startled.

"Ah, so you noticed her there then. And she claimed to be far enough to not be sensed by you, but your talents have always been rather unparalleled. Restricted only by your lack of killing desire. Such an odd one, you always were. The only reason you were never my number one was because of that, but it seems you've gained that instinct in the past few days, have you not? Halibel tells me of Noitora's death."

I remained silent, eliciting a frown from him as I didn't react to his prodding. Instead, he turns to the rest of our group, and asks them meaningless questions. We don't stop him, and simply answer where we wish to, and clam up when he attempts to antagonize us.

"What's your name?" he asks of a number of Ichigo's friends.

"How is your older brother doing lately, hrm? Did he die from his wounds or has he recovered?" he asked of the rukia girl.

"Orihime, Orihime, Orihime...You came quietly with us...for this? My, how dissapointing. A shame, a shame..." he muttered while talking to the girl with large breasts.

"Grimmjow...did you not learn your lesson last time? And after all the effort Kaname put into teaching you..."

"Ah, Ichigo Kurosaki. Quite the hero complex you have, don't you boy? Came here to rescue another girlfriend? Have you at least gotten a little stronger, I wonder? I'll have to test that. You seem close to my Neliel. Perhaps we'll see what you try to do when I punish her?" Ichigo came the closest to reacting, in that he actually reacted to the taunt and shouted, "Leave my mom out of your games!"

It startled Aizen, who recovered quickly, and simply smiled widely. "Your mother...truly? I suppose I can see it...yes. I see it. I'm surprised I never noticed it before. How remarkable."

Then the turn of 'Chad' comes up.

"Aah...and you would be here why?"

"To protect my friends."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"With these two arms of mine."

Sado quietly replied to every one of Aizen's questions, never reacting to any of them with anything but cool detachment.

Eventually, Aizen seemed bored, and prepared to move on, though there was a bit of respect in his eyes.

"I don't believe we ever were truly introduced in any capacity. What might your name be, boy?"

"Sado Yasutora," he replied. The giant boy was quiet and reserved, much like Halibel, I noted in my mind.

"Hrm...I'll try to remember that."

I noted Halibel once more act then.

She raised her submissive head up, and looked at Chad.

"...Sado?"

Sado looked confused, but nodded. "Yes?"

"...Sado."

All of us looked confused. Was this some trick of Aizen's to play? No...their side looked as confused.

"...my little Sado. It's you."

Her arms opened as wide as everyone's eyes did except for Sado. He merely cocked his head. "Mama?" he asked.

"Yes...my little Sado. It's me."

"Mama..."

Halibel just stood there, with her eyes emotionless, but her arms opened wide. Sado's own eyes didn't seem to be tearing up or anything, but he opened his own arms wide. The pair moved closer to each other.

"Huh...well that explains why they act so alike," I muttered.

A lot of the others nodded while gaping. Honestly. Two arrancar moms? What the heck where the chances? Even Aizen seemed humanly shocked.

As the two reached each other, and their arms tightened around one another, a simple little question was answered.

What were the chances of two arrancar mothers appearing and meeting their respective child?

Pretty low.

A bony jaw with razor sharp teeth clamped along Sado's neck and dug in. Sado's eyes were surely reacting with surprise as he tried to pull back, but Halibel seemed to have become pretty strong, as she held the gentle giant within her embrace and chomped.

Blood spurted out. A chunk of his neck was absent, as Halibel detachedly let the giant fall, and then kicked him towards our side. Time seemed to be moving so slowly through all this, and yet we felt inexplicably frozen. Even Aizen's side seemed to be unsure how to react. Was this a declaration for fighting to begin?

"Yummy..." Halibel commented, as her lower face was wide open for everyone to see, with her having lowered the part of the coat that usually hid the frightening remains of her mask, a functional jaw of ragged ivory teeth, from sight.

Time resumed.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck..." Grimmjow muttered, as he once again grabbed Orihime roughly, and pushed her towards where the giant was bleeding on the floor, not taking his eyes off of Halibel. No one did, as the 7th espada simply stood in the spot with blood dripping from her teeth.

Aizen sighed, as he stood up and walked up to Halibel. Everyone still seemed uncertain how to act.

His hand lifted up, and swung harshly.

_SLAP_

"Halibel...you interrupted my dramatic presentation...for this? THIS? Bad, Halibel! BAD!"


End file.
